Story of Life
by newsky
Summary: "Then, this morning, I remember escaping and trying to climb over the boarder once more. Imperials fighting Stormcloaks. I saw the uniforms and rushed around, screaming for my father before I was hit upside the head and thrown into this carriage, bound and ragged." I'm really bad at Summaries. More of a 'you have to read to understand anything about it' fic.


**A/N: Hello and first off, thank you for taking your time to read this little fic of mine. There was a lot put into all this as far as research of the game to playing for four weeks straight on this character. Before we go any further, this is a warning. This is the only Elder Scrolls game I've played. Frankly, if I had the money, I would go out and get the others to get an all around understanding of everything but I don't. So please, be honest but not hurtful. I can work off critics, can't work off hurtful words.**

**I had created this character after the idea came to me to make this fic at all and I had been playing as her since. Almost every move she makes in the game; almost all the quests and people she meets will be on here, but I'm adding a bit more personality to not only her but to those around her. Just so it doesn't seem like you're replaying the game even though, in this chapter and others, it might seem so. **

**Another thing; I do not own any rights to The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim. I have to say that because of reasons. This chapter might be the longest but that is because of introductions. The others after might be longer or shorter depending. I'm sorry if I get things wrong or if I don't seem like the right kind of person to be making these kinds of fics. I just thought this was a good idea and began working on it a month ago. **

**So please, enjoy. **

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Everything was blurred beyond belief. The only thing that was clear was the sound of the carriage being pulled against dirt and cobblestone. I tried to look up, see where I was, but my head was too heavy. My eyes stung at the sunlight and quickly shut tight. I groaned as a side of the carriage hit a rock, making all those inside move forward or back. Slowly, I tried to open my eyes again, everything coming to my vision one at a time; pine trees and many rocks, some snow scattered all over the ground and trees. I leaned back, blinking every now and again to try and regain more of my vision.

"Hey…you're finally awake." Gasping, I jumped back and looked up, seeing man with blond hair. My head hurt so much, I couldn't place the uniform right away.

I coughed and whispered when I spoke, my mouth and throat dry and cold. "W-what…?"

"You've been out for a while. Walked right into that Imperial ambush. Same as us and that horse thief over there." He nodded toward another man, his hair darkened, bags under his frightened eyes.

"Damn you Stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine until you came along." The one in rags hissed, glaring at the other. "Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you, I would've stolen that horse and been half way to Hammerfell by now."

Each word he spoke dripped with hatred and venom until he looked at me. His face softened and his voice lightened. "You and me, we shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants."

I nodded and turned toward the Stormcloak as he spoke once more, rolling his eyes before looking at the thief. "We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief."

"Shut up, back there!" The guard driving the carriage ordered.

The silence wasn't long but it was enough for me to think for a moment. Even if my head stung, I had to. My thoughts slowly became clearer with each second. That's right…Stormcloaks. My grandparents hated the lot. I remember earlier that month, they had been complaining about how we couldn't take our annual trip to Solitude due to the rebel's camps being spotted everywhere. It was too much of a hazard to even dare take a wagon up.

I remember how angry I was that they had ruined not only our trip, but had sent my father to war. I remember taking a walk toward the river just outside my town. I remember being grabbed and thrown and pushed and taken. Then, this morning, I remember escaping and trying to climb over the boarder once more. Imperials fighting Stormcloaks. I saw the uniforms and rushed around, screaming for my father before I was hit upside the head and thrown into this carriage, bound and ragged.

"What's wrong with him?" The horse thief asked, staring at the man next to me. A Nord with dark fur clothing, his mouth as tightly bound as his hands.

"Watch your tongue!" The Stormcloak hissed. If his hands weren't tied, I swear, he would have slapped that thief across the face. "You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King!"

The thief glanced at him then back at the fur coated man. "Ulfric? Jarl of Whindhelm?" My heart began to beat faster as my thoughts quickened. "You're the leader of the Rebellion." He spoke, fear and hate creeping into his voice. "If they've captured you…oh gods, where are they taking us?!"

I shook my head, scared of the truth that was being laid out in front of me. Ulfric, the Jarl of Windhelm, leader of the Stormcloak Rebellion, is the most wanted man of this day and age. Responsible for killing High King Torygg, it's no wonder almost everyone wants him dead. And if they had taken him, they will surely be killing him.

In front of our carriage rode another, full of Stormcloak soldiers. And beyond that stood a gate leading into a village no less. Before I could speak, the solider in front of me frowned, his head hanging slightly.

"I don't know where we're going…but Sovngarde awaits." He said sadly.

The thief began acting the way I was feeling. His eyes went wide and he seemed to try and catch his breath. "No…this can't happening…this…this isn't happening!" He screamed, only making me panic more.

I tried to hide my fear, but I'm sure it shown in my eyes. Quickly, I tried to look down at my own foot wrappings, think of a way out of this. There were guards everywhere and if I were to run, then what? I'm still bounded by the hands. I wouldn't be able to climb or swim. Fall into a river or come to a dead end, I wouldn't be able to get my way out of it.

Panic sprung into my throat and chest and it felt like I was being crushed by an invisible force. I was only nineteen…I had so much more to do in life. There was no way I was ready! No, I had to do something! I looked at the Stormcloak soldier to see if he had any ideas or even a comforting word or two to say, but he just stared at me, sorrow in his eyes. The face of someone who unwillingly has given up just looked at me and even if he had no words to speak, I felt as if he was sorry for me.

"Hey…" The soldier said, turning to the thief next to him, giving him the same look. "What village are you from, horse thief?"

He glared at him slightly, only giving him a small glance. Tears began forming in both mine and his eyes. "Why do you care?" He spat.

"A Nord's last thoughts…should be of home."

"Rorikstead…I'm…I'm from Rorikstead." The thief allowed the tears to fall down his cheeks. One could see the life he had lived flash before his eyes as he looked around, some gleam of hope hanging on the edges of his irises.

The Stormcloak nodded and turned back to me. "And what of you?" He asked, hope already faded and gone from his being.

I bit my lip and nodded, looking down at his shoes as I tried to swallow the lump in my throat. "Falkreath…I'm from Falkreath."

The village was small compared to other places, but was well known for its graveyard and pine trees. Some days, I'd walk along the tombstones, wondering if there truly were more people buried than there were walking the village streets. I'd read their names and think of what their life might have been like. Maybe they were traitors to their family or thieves in the bushes. Maybe they were mages or bards or nobles just trying to get to the more important, larger cities.

I used to climb and swing from the evergreen trees, playing with the dogs and horses and cows and birds. There weren't that many children, if any at all. Sometimes, my grandfather would take me out and teach me to fish. Once with just my bare hands. Now that I look down at them, dirty, cut, and roped, I wondered how I'd be able to catch any like this.

"General Tullius, sir, the headsmen is waiting!" An Imperial soldier called out, making me start shaking even harder than I had already was.

"Good!" General Tullius, I assumed, yelled back. "Let's get this over with!"

It made me sick how he could just say that as if it was a waste of time dealing with our lives. "Shor, Mara, Dibella, Kynareth, Akatosh. Divines, please…help me!" The thief whispered his prayer, placing his hands together and close to his chest.

'_That won't do us any good…_' I thought to myself but didn't dare speak out. One word and I would have began bursting into tears.

The Stormcloak looked over his shoulder and glared, a corner of his lip rising like a dog would do just before snarling. "Look at him…General Tullius, the military governor. And the Thalmor are with him. Damn elves, bet they had something to do with this." He growled.

I looked over, seeing a crowd of tall, golden skinned women and men, their hair just as bright and their robes darker than my hair. That's when I started looking around at the village; the small training area, the high cobblestone walls. Even the smell of the wood they burned was so familiar, it was almost calming to me.

"I think…I know this place…" I whispered, my voice sounding just about as torn as I felt.

"I bet you would." The blond soldier said, finally looking at me when the Thalmor were out of sight. "This is Helgen." As he spoke, he began to look away, staring at the houses we had passed. "I used to be sweet on a girl from here…wonder if Vilod is still making that mead with juniper berries mixed in…"

He shook his head and frowned. "Funny…" He sighed out, looking down at his bound hands. "The Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe…"

"And now we're going to die within them…" I couldn't help but mutter.

As we continued to ride through the village, I could hear a child arguing with his father, wanting to stay out on their porch and watch the soldiers parade by. I turned and watched as the father won the fight, his son hanging his head as he marched into the house. Part of me was relieved that he wasn't going to see, but, I could imagine him poking his head out the window to watch.

The Imperial Captain began shouting orders as the carriage in front of us stopped and I frowned as most of my focus was now set on the chopping block that sat in the small courtyard. I could see blood dried from all angles of it and my nose wrinkled as I could imagine its smell from years of use. My heart sunk like a cold rock into my stomach as I tried to push all thoughts of that from my head.

The thief's breathing started quickening as his head turned from side to side, not able to see the sight I had. "Why are we stopping?" He asked in a panic.

"Why do you think?" The Stormcloak turned to him with a look of pitty. "End of the line."

His fellow soldiers from the other carriage began filing out, putting themselves into two straight lines. "Let's go." He said with slight pride. "Shouldn't keep the Gods waiting for us."

All of us save for the horse thief stood up. He just sat there, shaking his head with wide eyes as Ulfric hopped out of the carriage. "No, wait! We're not rebels!" He screamed, gesturing to himself and me with frantic hands.

"Face your death with some courage, thief." The soldier said.

The man from Rorikstead looked into my eyes, almost pleading with me to help him. But what could I do? I was just as helpless as the rest of them. "Let's just get going." The words were bitter on my tongue and I bit my lip as he watched him stand and jump down, filing into a line.

"You've got to tell them, we weren't with you!" He tried to say to Ulfric, not even managing to make the Windhelm Jarl turn his head. "This is a mistake!"

Everyone ignored him, including the Imperial Captain who just continued to give out orders. "Step towards the block when we call your name. One at a time!"

"Empire loves their _damn _lists." The Stormcloak soldier hissed with a sigh as he jumped down to stand beside me.

I frowned as I turned and looked around. Everyone here has a name, a story, a life. That is something you learn in Falkreath. And as I looked around, I slowly began thinking of it as the graveyard back home. Will they get tombstones or will their bones be scattered, name and storyless with their comrades?

My name wouldn't be on their lists. Will I still die? Will it hurt? Or maybe they would let me go free. I was just trying to get home, after all. Just trying to get back pine trees I used to climb and the nightshade I used to plant.

The Imperial soldier that held the small book of names for our carriage played with his quill between his fingers, turning it this way and that as he read names and looked up. "Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm."

He didn't seem to care the least bit, walking over to the chopping block as instructed. But his fellow soldier frowned, standing straight with his head held high, his eyes trained on him. "It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric."

"Ralof of Riverwood." The Imperial soldier called out and the blond Stormcloak beside me walked passed, almost giving him an evil glare. Finally, the soldier had a name I could remember.

"Lokir of Rorikstead." As did the horse thief.

Lokir walked up to them, shaking. "No! I'm not a rebel! You can't do this!" And just like that, he ran.

The Imperial Captain didn't even bother grabbing him nor did any of the other soldiers that followed her commands. He screamed out in victory, boasting almost as he ran up the road we had came in on. All the Captain did was look over her shoulder, calling out to the archers that stood just a yard away. As they pulled back their bows, I prayed that their aims were horrible and that Lokir would be able to return home if I couldn't.

The Imperials released and their arrows flew threw the air, making a sickening sound as they impaled his back, causing him to all to the ground. Blood began pooling around him quickly and those who had shot him calmly walked over to pull the body away and wipe the mess. I had seen many dead bodies come through the streets in my village but this was the first actual death I had seen. My heart throbbed against my chest and my eyes widened like dinner platters. This was only the beginning of it.

"Anyone else feel like running?" The Captain called out, her eyes looking over every Stormcloak.

"Wait…you there, step forward." The Imperial soldier with the book of names spoke, staring right at me. As my shaking legs forced me to wobble up to him, I began to wonder if he knew my life was in his hands. "Who are you?"

"I-I…I just want to go home!" I shook my head, staring up into his eyes, hoping some part of him would help me. "My father, he's one of you! An Imperial soldier, stationed up North near DragonBridge!"

The soldier just stared at me, sadness in his eyes. Maybe I had gotten to him. His lip curled and he turned to the Captain. "Captain…what should we do?"

"She goes to the block."

He stared at her, eyes wide for a moment and mouth open as if to object but frowned, pressing his lips together. "By your orders, Captain…" The soldier turned to me, his quill and book slowly falling in defeat. "I'm sorry…we will send your remains to your village. Follow the Captain, prisoner."

My eyes moved from the Imperial Captain, her eyes free of mercy, to the archers that stood ready for any order they were to be given, arrows at the ready. This was my choice now; death by beheading or death by impaling. Unfortunately, my two favorite choices of death; by old age and in my sleep, were not an option. I almost wanted to start begging them to please, oh by the gods, please just poison me in my sleep, but my legs began walking me forward, toward the group of Stormcloaks that had stationed themselves around the block.

Taking my place next to Rolaf, I could feel myself shaking. Every part of my body rattled as General Tullius began giving a speech right into Ulfric Stormcloak's face.

"Ulfric Stormcloak…some here in Helgen call you a hero. But a hero doesn't use a power like The Voice to murder his king and usurp his throne."

Ulfric let out a muffled groan from behind the wrap he had around his mouth. To those who had paid attention, it sounded like a 'shut it', something along that nature. But Tullius continued, ignoring any and all others who tried to talk.

"You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos. And now the Empire is going to _put you down _and restore the peace!"

As the words left his lips, another sound filled the air. A loud roar of sorts rang against the walls, making everyone look toward the sky. Imperial soldiers took a few steps backward toward the tower keep and Stormcloaks looked at the clouds uneasily, trying to pull away from their binds.

The soldier that had called our names turned to the Captain and General, childness in his voice. "What was that?"

"It's nothing." Tullius said but didn't sound so convincing. Seeing the worried look on his soldiers' faces, he cleared his throat and began walking past his Captain. "Carry on."

"Yes, General Tullius!" She said firmly with a bow before looking over her shoulder to the priestess that stood silently beside the headsmen. "Give them their last rites."

She raised her arms to the sky and closed her eyes in prayer. When she began to speak, her words never reached my ears. I had already closed my eyes myself and hung my head, conducting my own sort of prayer. I prayed that my father would come and rescue me and tell them it was all a mistake. I prayed for someone to recognize me from any 'missing' fliers and notes I'm sure my grandparents made. I prayed to my mother whom I had not seen since I was very small. The chances of her being alive are slim and all I could hope was that she was now looking over me.

A dark haired Stormcloak broke my thoughts of prayer, stepping forward from his place in front of me, spitting out words angrily. The priestess just rolled her eyes as she opened them, lowering her arms as she spat words back. My eyes widened as I watched the soldier stand in front of the block, his head turned towards the headsmen. He did not flinch nor ask to be freed as the Captain brought him to his knees, her foot pressed into his back. He didn't even run when she took her foot off him. Instead, he spoke that his ancestors were smiling upon him, that they all said the same.

The headsmen lifted his axe over his head and I could hear the cheers begin around us, the older villagers telling him to hurry. I turned my head away and closed my eyes tightly, gasping slightly when I heard the end of his axe drive through his neck and land on the stone beneath him.

"You Imperial bastards!" I could hear one woman scream in horror among the many that cheered for the death of Stormcloaks, all hail the Empire, justice.

Rolaf spoke softly. "As fearless in death, as he was in life." I opened my eyes and looked at the headless body of the namless, fearless warrior and couldn't help but wonder how much family he had waiting for him in Sovngarde.

My eyes slowly went up to the Captain, her hand raising as she began to speak out the name of the next life that was about to end. Her finger pointed at me, her voice giving out the order without emotion. "Next, the Redguard!"

Before I could speak or move, there was that sound again. That loud roar, only closer as if it was being made just around the mountain. Everyone looked up at the sky only to see nothing but clouds. "There it is again…" The soldier with the book of names said. "Did you hear that?" He asked the Captain.

But she didn't seem all too distract by disembodied roars. "I said 'next prisoner'!"

"To the block, prisoner." The soldier said, frowning as he looked at me. "Nice and easy."

My legs moved slowly and I could feel the tears running down my face against my will. There was no lump in my throat as one would have when they cried. There was nothing. Just a deep cold that ran through my veins and struck every part of me.

I stepped over the body of the fearless Stormcloak and stared at the man, looking into his eyes as he stared back. Time seemed to slow down for a moment and I could feel myself shaking again. Soon, I'd be another faceless prisoner, another story that will never be told. I could feel my lips moving and something slip past my tongue but my throat was too dry to let that whisper be heard.

"What?" He whispered, slight horror in his eyes as I swallowed and tried again. I had to let him know…

"Sashen…" I finally whispered. "My name…"

The soldier's eyes went a little wider and he nodded. I kept staring at him until the Captain placed her foot on my back, forcefully sending me down to the ground and to the block. The warmth of the Stormcloak's blood that pressed against my neck was sickening and I couldn't help but let out a little sob, staring up at the headsmen.

His axe leaned against his hand and it seemed effortless as he began to rise it up. Just as I began looking for his eyes on his cloaked face, something flew by my line of vision. At first, I thought it was nothing more than a large bird. That was, until the roar from before sounded, louder and clearer than the two times before.

I gasped and, by everyone else's reaction to it, I knew it was real. "What in Oblivion is that?!" I heard one scream.

Screams began mixing with each other, some asking what others saw, others saying that it was in the clouds. One woman, I think it was the priestess, called out its name. "Dragon!"

It sounded more like the cracking of a whip than it did a roar when the beast opened its mouth, the sound bringing the headsman forward and me to my side. The side of my head slammed against the box containing the head of the first execution, causing it to roll out and my vision become blurry.

I knew what was in front of me; uncaring, lifeless eyes staring right into my soul, blood staining every part of me. But I didn't seem to care. I just wanted to close my eyes, to sleep, to wake up in my bed at home. Not even the sight of fire raining from the sky brought fear into my bones. I just laid there.

"Hey!" That voice…that belonged to that soldier, Rolaf. Slowly, I rolled my body to look at the source; a tower just a few feet away. "This way! Come on!"

Every inch of my ached and I groaned as, slowly, I forced myself to kneel then to stand and run as fast as I could toward him. He held a knife up that he had hid in his boot and grabbed my wrist when I got to him, cutting the binds so my hands and arms could move freely.

Two other soldiers were sprawled across the tower floor, a medic running between them to try and heal their wounds. Rolaf pulled me in and closed the door, looking over at Ulfric Stormcloak who had leaned against the wall.

"Jarl Ulfric, what is that thing? Could the legends be true?!"

He snarled slightly and rolled his eyes. "Legends don't burn down villages." Turning to the medic, he cleared his throat. "We need to move, now!"

"Up threw the tower!" Rolaf screamed and began his climb up the stairs.

I shook my head as I watched. There was no use going up there. "We should stay here and hide out! We'll only get into more danger up there!" I screamed and followed him, trying to pull at his sleeve. Stormcloak or not, he was still a life.

"We can't just stay down there!" He stopped and turned to me, another soldier behind him trying to get his attention and wave him over. "We'll be killed!"

"And we'll be killed if we continue up here! There is nothing up there for us!"

In the middle of our fighting, the dragon's head rammed into the side of the tower wall, boulders falling down the stairs, hitting the medic and the soldier that had tried to hurry us. It made a slight sound before opening its large mouth, showing off its teeth as fire sprung from its throat. The soldier screamed and tried to run only to trip, his head slamming against one of the chunks of the tower.

A few times back home, people would ask not to be buried but to be burned to ash, their remains stuck inside an urn to be placed in their home. The smell of their rotting corpse would fill the air and make my nose wrinkle in disgust. I had never seen someone burned to ash nor to a crisp and to see it and smell it from this distance was horrifying. The heat from the dragon's blast singed the tips of my long hair and almost burned my eyes. I turned and leaned against the wall, becoming sick on the stairs.

As the dragon roared and flew off, Rolaf tried to help me to the opening he left behind, nodding toward the building a few feet away. "See the Inn?" He asked me.

I looked up and nodded, frowning. "It's almost completely in flames!"

"Jump through the roof and keep going!" He said, looking down at me.

"Are you insane?! I could break my leg and then where would we be?!"

"Would you rather be broken or dead?" I looked up at him as he let me stand on my own. He was right about it, but what if I didn't make it all the way? He didn't seem too concerned about that as he turned to look down at Jarl Ulfric, before screaming at me once more. "Go! We'll follow when we can!"

I tried to find another way. I looked down to see if there was nothing I could climb down on, nothing. Looked around for anything to help me, nothing. My heart raced and adrenaline pumped through my torso to my limbs. There was no other way. I leaned back, crouched, and began running until my foot hit the edge of the dragon made opening. Before it left the stone, I pressed down on it, giving me a slight push forward. I yelled and flew through the air, bringing my arms up to guard my head as I came closer to the wooden Inn floor.

Turning to my side, I grunted as I hit the floor, the smell of burning hay, hair, wood, and mead over powering that of burning flesh. I gasped for air and looked around. Nothing but a bed or two, tables, a dresser, and fallen, burning roof.

'_What could help me here, what could help me here?_' Nothing really. The bottles of mead that hadn't broken on the floor weren't going to help any nor were the pillows that flung from each side of the room whenever the dragon roared into the air.

Then I saw it; a gap in the floor. Fire tickled the ceiling above it, but if I was fast enough, it wouldn't collapse. So, I stood, ran, and jumped down to the first floor, running out the hole on the wall it lead to just as the hay roof fell in on itself. The smell of that came off the Inn began mixing with that of charred bodies, burnt earth, and freshly made steel. I groaned and lifted my arm to my nose to block it out.

"That's it, you're doing great!" The soldier from before spoke as a child ran past him. The same child that had wanted to see them parade through the streets. When I saw him cling to an elderly man, I began thinking that maybe seeing our heads chopped off one by one wouldn't be as bad anymore.

He turned to me with a slight smile, seemingly happy to see me alive. "Still alive, Sashen?" I nodded. "Stay close to me if you want to stay that way." He turned to the elderly man, speaking of joining the defense though I couldn't hear as the dragon roared even louder, as if he was right in my ear.

"Gods guide you, Hadvar." The Imperial soldier who had spoken our names, who knew mine, now had a name.

I shook as I ran up to him, following close behind as we ran around burnt bodies of fallen soldiers and villagers. The whole time, I had to swallow back how sick I was; the smell, the sight. It all churned my stomach.

The more we ran, the faster my heart raced, the warmer my body became. In the grand scheme of things, I was still being faced with death. The dragon could pick me up at any minute and fling me into the air or see me and breathe his fire, burning me to a crisp. But when I was faced with death not more than ten minutes ago, my whole body was cold.

"Stay close to the wall!" Hadvar screamed and swung his arm over my chest, pressing me against the wall as the black as night beast sat on it. Thankfully, he was too distracted to noticed the two of us staring at him. Not so much so that he had just charred another soldier, another life.

Arrows zoomed through the sky; some hitting its wings and others landing in front of us as we ran. Horrified screams mixed with battles cries as people either fought or fled. Normal villagers would begin fighting outside their destroyed homes and some soldiers ran for cover. I clutched Hadvar's sleeve with a weak hand, falling behind slightly. "Stay close!" He said once more, taking my hand and almost dragging me toward the keep.

Soldiers both Stormcloak and Imperial stood on Helgen's walls, being plucked and flung, shooting arrows, casting spells. Rolaf ran from the wreckage of one, stopping in front of us, battle axe in hand.

"Rolaf, you damned traitor! Outta my way!" Hadvar screamed, bitterness that could be traced back to times before this moment hung in his voice.

"We're escaping, Hadvar!" Rolaf glared. "You're not stopping us this time!"

"Fine! I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovngarde!"

They ran their separate ways and I could feel myself become torn. Rolaf had helped me but so didn't Hadvar. He had hidden me from the flying beast while the Stormcloak soldier would have gotten me killed by that beast's very flames. Hadvar could help me home, help me find out if my father is alive, where as Rolaf would have brought me to war, no doubt.

I turned toward Hadvar who had been waving me over, the Helgen keep door open and ready for me to run in. As I did, I took one last good look at the village that had almost been the death of me and breathed a sigh of relief that I was finally safe.

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**A/N: So, leave a review on if I should really continue this or not. I have the whole thing ready for if enough people say it's good enough to continue. And please, let me know what you think of it. Also, who did you go with? Hadvar or Rolaf? Let me know in the reviews. I'll try to update by Friday or Wednesday of next week. Goodbye for now. **


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